


The Mistletoe

by ishte



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: FullMetal Alchemist - Freeform, Fullmetal Alchemist: Chasing the Trail, Other, Post Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1592735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishte/pseuds/ishte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chasing the Trail Universe: an impromptu Party occurs at Mustang's home during the holidays. Present are the Mustang Tachi, Rezembool Trio, and Rebecca Catalina "shoehorned in" as requested. General Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the FMA Gift Exchange on Livejournal as requested by Bobfish to the prompt: "Team Mustang's New Year's Eve Party. Hijinks, foolishness and drunken declarations of eternal brotherhood ensue. Timeline: any time in manga canon, from pre-Chapter 1 to post-Chapter 108".
> 
> Author's Note: I missed the Canon. This is written in 1st AV+CoS including Chasing the Trail Canon because I did not see/remember that part of the prompt until after the work was done and I was presenting. Thankfully the recipient did not mind. Also this is not technically a NYE party, just a kind of random holiday party that happened sometime before Yule, and somewhat more before the big NYE party that everyone is planning to attend.

"You know…" Edward never exactly finished his thought aloud, though fingers tapped thoughtfully on the keys of the piano with his left hand. He and his brother had finished playing another holiday song for the impromptu gathering to sing along. Edward's skill was inexpert at best. With only one hand available, he had taken the bass clef to allow his younger brother more room to embellish in the upper registers. Alphonse played well, but their mother had insisted that both boys learn to play.

"You'll be even better at math, Ed," Tricia had told him, her fingers mussing his hair, and causing much fussing from her eldest son over the indignity of it. Nevertheless, she had known his weak points well, and as requested, Edward had plodded through the lessons, albeit, mechanically. Tricia had been right. Not to say he didn't enjoy it at all, but for Edward music was mostly mathematical, methodical and logical. Alphonse, though more than a year younger, had outpaced Edward quickly in his understanding of the lyrical, empathic and aesthetic qualities of music.

Neither of them had really forgotten how to play, even though they had gone years without doing so. There had been an old spinet in the front room of the little apartment they'd rented in New York City. The landlady had told them that it was more trouble and expense to move than to just leave it for the next tenants. When Alphonse had started tinkering around on it, Edward had scrimped their pay together to get it tuned for him. Only Alphonse had played it at first, but then he had gotten on Edward's case for spending every moment of his free time studying and working calculations. So, he'd played it from time to time just to have something to do. They'd both picked it back up fairly easily, but Alphonse still teased Edward that he played like a metronome.

Now that they were back home in Amestris, one of the first things Edward had done with the money held in trust from his State Alchemist salary was to buy a piano for their apartment in Central City. It was no secret to Edward that his brother liked to play, and he had to admit that sometimes it was a good way to break his mind away from worrying a problem for a little while so he could come back to it with a fresh perspective. The piano was a nice little spinet by a respected maker, but both boys were fairly frugal, so it was nothing compared to the beautiful miniature grand they were playing in Roy Mustang's living room now. Winry had gotten Alphonse to start playing it one evening while Edward had still been too sick to be out of bed. Another fever had made Edward restless, and Winry had sent Alphonse down to play the piano, ostensibly to soothe Edward. He suspected it had more to do with getting Alphonse out of her hair by giving him something to do other than worry and fret. Winry was often wise like that despite her rough edges.

"Brother?" Edward didn't quite register that his brother had spoken to him until the younger Elric practically shouted in his ear, "Ed!"

"Huh?" Edward blinked. "What?"

"I just figured maybe everyone might be getting tired of hearing you play the first two bars of Jingle Bells over and over, Ed. Especially in bass. Do you want me to play it with you?

Edward shrugged, "Naw, you go ahead, Al," he said pushing to his feet and picking up his drink. He studied the entryway speculatively. "You know," he previous train of thought caught up with him now, "now that we've got the bastard's Evergreen Tree decorated _properly_ , I think it might be time to put the mistletoe up. Breda and Havoc chuckled between themselves and gave Hawkeye what they probably considered meaningful nudges. It earned the pair something that might be termed a death glare, the other two men pulling their comrades a step back from her. Somehow, this got Falman and Fuery included in the threatening stare, rather than allaying it any.

Rebecca snickered at her friend's reaction and got the stern glance turned from the men to herself, though on her it seemed less effective somehow. In one hand, Rebecca flipped a polished bone shoehorn some of them had been using in what Edward considered the most bizarre drinking game he'd ever witnessed. "I kinda think it's a good idea, Riza!"

"It's not for her," Edward grumbled. "And it's not like the bastard needs any help with his womanizing either," he added a little hotly, taking a drink from his brandy. At least the bastard had decent taste in liquor. He was not oblivious to the fact that he was being subtly mocked, though he wasn't completely certain why.

"The tradition of hanging mistletoe dates back into the last century," Falman recited as if reading from somewhere inside his head. "According to custom, any two people who meet under a hanging of mistletoe are obliged to kiss."

"You hear that, Ed?" Breda teased. "Obliged."

"Whatever! I'm putting it up!" He told them decisively. Setting his glass on top of the piano, Edward started across the room. His progress was awkward, the bruise in his hip still painful, and the spring loaded prosthetic leg not exactly what he was used to any more.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa! Hang on a minute, Boss," Havoc stepped in front of Edward. "You planning to climb a ladder? You can hardly even walk right now."

"Right," Fuery put in. "And I heard Miss Winry remind you before that you're not supposed to be up with out this." Edward's crutch was presented helpfully.

Edward snarled and snatched it from Fuery. Currently it was brightly festooned in bright green ribbons to go with the anodized red of the metal parts. Edward had condescended to leave them there only because they had been Winry's doing. Alphonse had offered to use alchemy to color the handle and arm supports green to match, but Edward had drawn the line there. In a moment, he had hobbled the rest of the way to where the sprig lay on a side table, waiting for someone to attend to it. He started to put it between his teeth, and then thought better of it putting a poisonous plant in his mouth. Instead, he got it clutched between two of his fingers, the rest of them holding onto the handle of his crutch.

"How are you planning to put it up _and_ hang onto the ladder?" Hawkeye pointed out. "You only have one arm right now, you know."

Edward winced as he actually tried to move his nonexistent arm in order to look at it. The abortive motion shot unwelcome pain through connections and muscles alike as they tried to interact with each other through a port not working remotely as it should. "Nng! I'm not a freaking invalid, and I don't need two arms to hang a stupid parasitic weed from a hook!" he barked at them.

"Brother…" Alphonse stopped whatever jazzy little ragtime bit he was playing on the piano getting up to smack Edward lightly on the back of the head. "Give it a rest. Someone else can hang the stupid mistletoe for you."

"Who said it was for me?" Edward yelped, voice squeaking.

Alphonse's snort that made it clear his brother had protested a bit too strongly. "Ed," he snatched the bundle of mistletoe from him, "give me that!" He danced back out of the way before Edward could react, though the elder did attempt a swipe to hook him with his crutch. Alphonse was already on his way to retrieve the ladder and hardly even noticed the breeze.

In fairly short notice, the twig was hung, and the ladder put away now that they were finished with it. The group went back to singing and drinking. For a while the mistletoe was forgotten. Or so it seemed.

"Winry should be back any minute," Rebecca mentioned with seeming innocence.

"And not a moment too soon," Riza agreed pointing at the greatly depleted assortment of light foods they had scrounged from Mustang's kitchen. "He might not appreciate arriving home from work to find there is nothing left to snack on."

"You don't think he'll be mad that we're having a party without him, do you?" Fuery wanted to know.

"Aw, who cares?" Breda mumbled stuffing his mouth with another cracker stacked with summer sausage and cheese.

"After all, we _have_ already made arrangements to re-provision the kitchen." Falman pointed out.

"Oh yah!" Edward grumbled. He had parked himself on the piano bench again so he could reach his brandy easily, but was no longer playing with his brother. "You mean you drafted _Winry_ to do it!"

"We did it so you could kiss her when she comes back in, Boss," Havoc teased.

Edward swore that, for just half a second, his hair had stood straight out from his head, and he deeply regretted the telling squawk that came out of him. He'd thought they were done making sport with him for a while. Never mind it was always "Pick on Edward" day in their book.

"You probably won't even have the nerve to do it," Breda laughed.

This was met with much snickering from the rest of the group. Edward felt his face redden and he bared his teeth at them. "What?" he asked sharply. "You think I'm afraid? She might like it you know!" Saying it didn't diminish the heat in his face. Nor did the bill suddenly appearing in Breda's hand.

"My ten thousand says you won't kiss the first person who walks through that door." The stout man sounded so damned cocky as he laid the bill on the glossy black surface of the piano, it made Edward grit his teeth and snap back without thinking.

"Oh yah? Well I'll take that bet!" He slammed his own bill down on top of Breda's. In a moment the whole room was clamoring to add to Breda's bet, and Edward was obliged to lay out a fair sum, ultimately borrowing a five thousand cenz note from his brother to match the final bet made by Riza Hawkeye. "Stop rolling your eyes Al!" he snarled, snatching the bill. "Why would you think I'm afraid to kiss Winry? I can't believe you would bet against me!"

"You don't know–" Alphonse was silenced by the three dogs, Ed's Ralph and Mustang's two terriers, running in to bark and cavort excitedly at the sound of the outer door being opened, and everyone turned to look.

"A lot riding on this," Breda reminded with a chuckle while they waited for the inner door to open.

"Just don't count your money yet!" Edward dropped his head, his face set.

"But Ed!"

Edward pointed an accusing finger at Alphonse. "I'll deal with you later, brother," he grabbed his glass and drained the brandy in it. For a moment, he wished it had been a lot fuller, but he couldn't stop to dwell on it now. Taking a bet – even a sucker – was a lot like accepting a dare. He set his glass down firmly and stalked – well, limped – across the room to the foyer.

The kiss started with a growl, and Edward was startled to feel arms going around him and pulling him closer. When he felt a tongue probing at his lips trying to get his to part, he stiffened in shock, his eyes flying wide. "NNG?" Edward shoved hard with his one arm to get away. "What the fuck, Mustang? The hell was that?"

"I could ask you the same. Lost a bet, Fullmetal?" The older man smirked at him, his voice remaining mild, almost bored as usual. "I just thought I'd make it worth your money and teach you how to do it right."

"I know how to do it right!" Edward fairly shrieked. "And for your information," he jabbed a finger at his former commander, "I just _won_ the bet." He marched himself unevenly back to the piano and snatched the pile of bills off the piano, waved it at Mustang and stuffed them into his pocket to prove it. Thankfully someone had been nice enough to top of his glass. He picked it up just in time for Winry to come in the door and see him sanitize his mouth by gulping it.

"He bet that he'd kiss the next person to come in the door," Rebecca pointed out amid much snickering and a few guffaws.

"What he's not mentioning here," Hawkeye added, "is that you were not the person he expected to come in."

Winry, by now, seemed to have a pretty good idea what had happened. She shoved her two bags of groceries at Breda and Havoc, tossed the keys to Alphonse and grabbed Edward by the shirt with both hands. "Edward!" She growled, her eyes alarming. It was all Edward could do to grin stupidly at her, showing as many teeth as possible. "First off, you shouldn't be drinking, but since you are, if you're not drunk, maybe you better just pretend you are."

"Really, Fullmetal…" Mustang sighed, examining his fingernails. "You know… This kind of thing is how those stupid rumors get started."


End file.
